


The Twenty-First Year

by EponaVegas



Series: Faithful [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Deals, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Office Sex, Porn With Plot, Switch Lucius Malfoy, Switch Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EponaVegas/pseuds/EponaVegas
Summary: In which Lucius Malfoy slips back into old habits, marriage or not.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape
Series: Faithful [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745461
Comments: 14
Kudos: 70





	1. Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! This was a blast and a half to write--this is the first time I've wholeheartedly written and polished up a sexually explicit piece, so I'm curious and excited to see what kind of reception this'll receive, if any. I'll keep this short as I know it's a pain to scroll past these--more notes at the end if you wish to read elaborations. Please enjoy, and, as always, criticism is welcome!

_ Dearest Severus, _

_ With our heartfelt cordiality, we request the pleasure of your company at the Malfoy Estate for a celebratory banquet. Please come and grace this occasion as we celebrate twenty years of our marriage and love on the seventeenth of December. Please, RSVP when you receive this as we need numbers. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy _

Severus Snape snorted as he perused the invitation written in Lucius Malfoy’s foppish handwriting. It was both laughable and insulting that Lucius would have the audacity to invite him to their twentieth-anniversary party when Severus had, in fact, only heard of their actual wedding ceremony through the grapevine weeks later. Furthermore, Severus had not been invited to their first-anniversary party the next year, nor the one after that. Severus had heard about their tenth-anniversary celebration by Lucius himself but was never formally invited. So, out of politeness, bitterness, and spite, Severus hadn’t inquired further. 

_ But why was he invited now? _

Severus glared at the great Stygian owl standing on his desk as if the invitation fiasco were  _ his  _ fault, and that he’d better start talking about the intent of the Malfoys at that very moment or something terrible would happen to him. However, the owl was more absorbed in looking annoyed that his usually so pristine feathers were now ruffled and mussed from trying to navigate the dank and dark corridors of the dungeons.

After much humming and hawing (not to the pleasure of the owl, who had started to screech and scratch impatiently), Snape decisively pushed his chair back.

“If only to save face.”

Severus was immediately taken aback when he arrived.

The Malfoy Manor, which was usually grim and empty, was brought to life with twinkling lights, sparkling banners, and people-- _ happy  _ people. That might've been the most shocking thing of it all, although, Severus mused, the alcohol may have had something to do with it.

"Severus, what a pleasure it is to see you.” 

Severus, who all of a sudden felt very much out of place in his simple black dress robes amongst the sea of wealthy aristocrats, saw Lucius parting his way through the crowd. 

He was certainly dressed for the occasion, as he was clad in an extravagant suit, leather gloves, and had his sleek blond hair pulled neatly into a ponytail with a black ribbon.

"And you as well," said Snape stiffly, giving a tight-lipped smile. "Congratulations on your anniversary," he added, hoping it didn't sound too forced.

It didn't appear so, as Lucius continued with a smooth, "Thank you, Severus." He gave what could have been an apologetic smile if you squinted hard enough--the Malfoys rarely apologized (sometimes Severus wondered if they even knew how to at all). "Now, I know you're not an enormous fan of these sorts of events, but please..." He gestured to his half-full wine glass with a charismatic wink. "Enjoy yourself."

With that, Lucius disappeared, being pulled aside here and there to amuse guests. When he wasn't trying to torture Muggles or threaten politicians with murder into doing his bidding, Severus considered that Lucius could actually have the capacity to be quite charming. 

Severus figured that he may as well have a drink or two, so he made his way over to the bar, muttering a plethora of 'pardon me's and 'excuse me's as he went. For the large estate that it was, the ballroom certainly didn't feel vacant at all. There must have been around one-hundred people gathered around large banquet tables that were covered with ornate tablecloths. Names shivered above the tables like pixie dust, and to Severus' surprise, 'Snape' and 'Malfoy' hovered side-by-side.

After dreading having to sit at a table awkwardly by himself (or worse, having to make small talk with strangers), Severus silently thanked whoever made the seating arrangements.

An enchanted bottle poured itself into an empty wineglass, filling it with deep crimson liquid. Severus didn't have to read the label to know it was Superior Red--what  _ other  _ drink would the Malfoy's serve, really? As Severus took the glass, someone bumped into him from behind--to his relief, no liquid sloshed over the brim of the cup.

"Oh, sorry," said a familiar, toneless voice.

Severus turned his head and saw none other than Draco Malfoy, who looked very hot and very uncomfortable in his dress suit. He ran his fingers wearily through what had been his neatly combed hair and sighed. His eyes flicked up, then widened in shock.

"Professor Snape, I didn't know you'd come!" Draco said, all sense of boredom whisked away by a rush of newfound excitement.

Apparently, Severus had misjudged how thrilling it was to see your Head of House and potions professor outside of school because Draco was nearly bouncing on the spot.

"Yet, here I am," said Severus dryly, taking a swallow of wine. "And,  _ no _ , you are most definitely  _ not  _ having a sip," he added sternly, noting the yearning looks Draco was throwing his glass.

Draco opened his mouth to give what was sure to be a compelling argument when Severus continued, "If you think I am the type to offer alcoholic beverages to minors, you are gravely mistaken."

"But, Professor--"

"What would your father say?" asked Severus behind a poorly veiled smile.

"I asked him already. He said no," said Draco sadly. He looked up at Severus with hopeful eyes once more. "Sir, you know you're my favourite teacher."

"Flattery does not work on me, Draco, nor will it work on your father when I inevitably have to explain to him why in Merlin's name I would allow you to consume alcohol," said Severus severely, but nonetheless amused at Draco's antics.

Draco, hopes utterly deflated and looking like a kicked puppy, scampered off. Snape saw that he found Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, whose parents were undoubtedly attending as well. Chuckling to himself, Severus overheard Draco say something along the lines of, 'I'll wait until he's had a few more and ask again.'

Severus eventually made his way through the congestion to his seat, ignoring the curious, prying stares that were cast upon him. 'Is that Severus Snape?' he heard one lady say, to which another responded, 'I think so, but I'd never expect the Malfoys to invite him to their table...' 'But they've always been rather...  _ fond  _ of him, haven't they?'

Within minutes, the other guests settled at their tables as well, and finally, the Malfoys sauntered over themselves. Narcissa strode with her arm in Lucius', the long train of her sumptuous black gown trailing elegantly behind her. She graced Severus with a smile and ushered Draco over, who appeared to be very pleased to be sitting with his favourite teacher.

"Thank you all for coming on this lovely winter evening," said Narcissa, who stood importantly at their table in the front of the room. The chatter died down respectfully, and she carried on, "It's truly breathtaking to see how many have been with us through marriage and many years of it." (Or one, thought Severus, a little bitter). "I can't find the words to express our gratitude."

"If I may, I'd like to propose a toast," continued Lucius grandly. "Here's to twenty years of a faithful marriage!"

Everyone politely sipped at their wine, except Draco (and hopefully any other minors that were there), who took a begrudging swallow of Party Punch. Then with a snap of Lucius' fingers, plates of all sorts of decadent dishes floated through from the kitchen and landed gently on each table.

The buzzing of conversation exploded as soon as the couple sat, and a lavish feast ensued. 

Despite Severus being a bit of a wallflower, between Draco's attempts at not-so-subtly bribing Severus 'just one, tiny sip, come on, Professor, I won't ever ask again!', Narcissa's half-exasperated, half-playful nagging at Lucius to hold back on the drinks, and Lucius' silvery tongue, the night flowed smoothly. Severus nearly even caught himself smiling and laughing a few times.

It seemed like only mere seconds had passed when Narcissa stood once more to wish everyone farewell, and the ballroom slowly emptied. About to excuse himself, Severus started to stand, but Narcissa stilled him with a laced gloved hand. 

"Oh, Severus," she said airily, "it's been so long since we've seen you outside of work and school. Why don't you stay longer?"

It wasn't much to convince him to do so. Besides that, the Malfoys, as irritating as they may be, were fairly good hosts, and at the time it was a lot of work to apparate outside Hogwarts grounds and then walk all the way to the dungeons to sleep--it was already getting late... 

Narcissa said tiredly that she would clean everything up in the morning, so the company of four meandered their way to the drawing-room and sat by the great fireplace, drinks in hand and engaging in pleasant, lighthearted conversation. At some point, Draco had fallen asleep on the couch and snored away. Lucius kindly suggested to Narcissa, who looked as though she might fall asleep any moment, that she take Draco to bed and get some rest herself. Narcissa didn't offer much resistance, and lumbered sleepily with Draco in her arms, muttering an exhausted, 'Have fun, you two' before disappearing in the long corridors.

Lucius and Severus talked for a while after that; Lucius had shifted closer to make conversation easier with the absence of Narcissa, and, a little tipsy, rested his hand on Severus' knee with a sense of kinship that he hadn't displayed in years.

It was when that hand started sliding higher that Severus couldn't help but raise suspicions. He tried to convince himself to focus on maintaining conversation, but he was all too aware of the feeling slowly making its way up his leg, farther, farther...

Oh, Severus  _ couldn't. _

"What the Hell are you doing?!" he hissed when Lucius' fingers feathered along his inner thigh.

Instead of removing his hand, Lucius tilted his head and giggled giddily, leaning in so his lips brushed against a few strands of Severus' raven hair. "Severus, I want you."

_ Well. This was certainly quite the development. _

"You are drunk," said Severus, elbowing Lucius off him, who looked not at all sorry.

"So I am," replied Lucius evenly.

"You are married," continued Severus.

"So I am," replied Lucius, without a hint of shame.

"You are thinking of celebrating your twentieth anniversary by fornicating with another man," said Severus in a mixture of scorn, shock, and wonder.

"So I am," replied Lucius, this time with a devilish smirk.

Severus mulled this over, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

Then those words came--soft and sotto--and they hit Severus hard.

"It can be just like before."

And then he was young--very young, and very foolish, and very innocent, trailing behind a certain silver-haired Prefect, exchanging heated, forbidden kisses behind trees trunks when they thought no one was looking; sneaking into each other's beds at night and the sinful ecstasy that came with the touching, the feeling; the bliss of being wanted, of being needed, of pale fingers tangling themselves in black hair, of icy blue eyes glazed over with pleasure...

"You," said Severus, grabbing Lucius by the wrist, "are insufferable."

Lucius stared at him with an annoying placidity, those same pair of icy blue eyes glittering smugly. He knew that he won, and he was basking in all its glory. "So I am."

With a snarl and a tug, Severus wrenched Lucius onto his lap, who cried out in naughty delight. Up close, Severus could make out Lucius’ visage clearly and saw an expression that he hadn’t seen in ages—a look he knew all too well. The flame beneath the cool, the thirst, and the unadulterated lust waiting to devour anything in its path.

Conveniently, Severus was in its path.

It was pure seduction, and maybe due to the fault of the alcohol or the intoxicating scent of Lucius’ expensive cologne, but Severus embraced it with open arms, letting the euphoric warmth of arousal and the buzz of Superior Red usurp any ounce of moral intelligence that Severus thought he had. So, when Lucius grabbed the collar of Severus’ dress robes, their lips crashing, Severus barely put up a fight. He let Lucius nip and bite at his lips, and let that silken tongue defile his mouth. It wasn’t sweet or gentle. It was harsh, wild, and addictive; a poison that Severus couldn’t have enough of.

Between hungry, messy kisses, Lucius started to disrobe. His gloves were tossed aside, as were his wingtips, and he squirmed out of his jacket. Fingers flew to undo buttons in blind haste, and Severus slipped the white blouse off Lucius’ pale shoulders. The clothes were then discarded in an unceremonious heap somewhere on the floor. Severus' hands moved to work on Lucius' trousers when Lucius squeezed them instead.

“Touch me,” he panted desperately.

And Severus  _ did,  _ with the libido of all the pent-up sexuality and ravenous desire he's stowed away over the years. His hands, worn from relentless potions-work, rubbed the soft, pale skin on Lucius' chest and stomach. Lucius leaned into his callously rough touch, shivering and gasping sweetly every time Severus' fingers rubbed his nipples heedlessly, every time Severus sucked at his neck. Even though a simple concealment charm would hide it, Severus still took wicked pleasure in marring that clear, lily-white skin. It was something about the way those dark bruises defiled the perfect image that Lucius tries so hard to maintain that had Severus addicted.

Lucius started to grind his hips, rutting shamelessly in Severus' lap. Severus groaned at the sudden friction, teeth grazing Lucius' collarbone mindlessly. His erection was painfully tight in his dress pants, and Lucius' sweet arse rubbing against him was not helping.

Severus managed to collect himself enough to hiss, "Enough," just so that he could tug Lucius' breeches and undergarments down to his knees. Lucius was compliant, lifting his hips a little and then kicking them off gracelessly.

It had been so long since Severus saw Lucius like this--so vulnerably exposed--that the sight nearly knocked the breath out of him. Everything from Lucius' wonderfully dishevelled hair to his slender legs and the elegant curve of his hard, leaking cock was beautiful--as the Malfoys typically were. Severus took a moment to fully appreciate the whole of this, leaning back to get a good, indulgent look. Lucius' lips, parted with panting, were swollen and wet from abuse, bruises and teeth marks were strewn along his porcelain-like skin. His eyes, usually cold and dismissive, were now glazed over and half-lidded with foggy desire.

Severus couldn't help but feel very proud that he was the one that debauched the great Lucius Malfoy to a state like this. And what a gorgeous state it was.

As Severus pulled his own pants down to free his prick from the restraints of his clothes, he muttered, “Praelino.”

Lucius jolted and gasped, the sound quickly melting into that of pleasure, his hands jerking towards his arse instinctively.

"It's been a while," said Severus quietly, dragging a finger between Lucius' thighs to collect some slick that had gathered there. To his surprise, Lucius pressed Severus' hand to his lips and licked a hot line from palm to fingertips, the creamy lubricant collecting stickily on Lucius' pretty pink tongue. With that visual, it was impossible not to imagine what else Lucius could lick, and Severus shuddered.

Lucius continued to lap at Severus' hand--his tongue sliding between fingers, sucking on them lewdly--while his own hand slid down, down his back, fingers teasing his tight hole. It was hot, and Severus couldn't resist pumping his cock as he watched Lucius slowly work himself open one finger at a time. Lucius' mouth went slack, breath coming in heavy pants through which his voice sometimes seeped through as he filled himself. He started rocking into his own hand, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy.

"Just fuck me already," whined Lucius, voice thick with pleasure.

It was horribly tempting, and Lucius may as well be Satan.

"This is sin," said Severus absently as he pushed Lucius over on the couch.

"And you're going to love it," replied Lucius between pants, shifting on his hands and knees.

With a snort, Severus climbed over Lucius' back and swept his lustrous blond hair over his shoulders. Severus planted a kiss, then a bite, and a kiss again to the nape of Lucius' neck.

With one hand firmly planted on Lucius' hip, Severus pushed into the tight, welcoming heat with a groan--Lucius choked--and he lost himself. He started to move. It was agonizing, sliding in and out so slowly, but only because he knew Lucius would go crazy over it.

Lucius was squirming and panting, pushing his hips back in such a filthy way, Severus actually took pity and quickened, quickly enthralled with the euphoria of the friction on his prick. He set the pace, and Lucius started to moan openly, high-pitched and whining. He was touching himself frantically now, in rhythm with Severus' relentless thrusts.

Even if Severus could manage any coherent thoughts, words couldn't describe that feeling--Lucius Malfoy moaning beneath him, the carnal pleasure that spread and burned like fire, the lewd sounds of scents of pure sex. Severus was barely lucid enough, lost in unashamed eroticism, to realize that Lucius moved to rest on his elbows, and was now crying out things that sounded vaguely like 'Severus, please' and 'more'.

A tight and familiar sensation began to spread throughout Severus' body. The pressure kept building, tighter and tighter, it felt wonderful. Lucius came into his own hand and was near bawling, but Severus wouldn't--no, couldn't--stop if Dumbledore, Voldemort, and the entire Ministry of Magic commanded him to, all at once.

His tempo quickened implacably, chasing that high, chasing that excruciating tightness.

Blinding heat washed over Severus, his vision going white, hips stuttering. He felt himself come with one final thrust, heard Lucius shout, and drenched Lucius' insides with semen.

Too dazed with the glow of orgasm to do much else, Severus removed himself, slumped down on the couch beside Lucius, tucked himself back in his pants, and muttered the incantation for a gentle (person-friendly) cleaning spell.

Lucius squeaked indignantly. "Really, Severus?" he seethed, now flailing in discomfort.

"You're free to clean yourself by hand," said Severus flatly, to his delight, earning a frigid glare--or what would have been, if Lucius hadn't been both exhausted and intoxicated.

"No,  _ thank you." _

After Severus had allowed himself a few moments to catch his breath, he decided to help Lucius out, seeing as Lucius was in no real state to get presentable. Severus magicked the bruises and bite-marks away, Lucius' skin now (unfortunately) unblemished. He picked Lucius' shirt up from the unceremonious pile on the floor and started to thread his arms through the sleeves.

Lucius had a protesting look, but was too tired to say much about it and instead complied, lifting his hips to help his pants on. Then he did something very unexpected. With the gentlest, kindest of touches, he ran a hand through Severus' hair tenderly. Severus paused, curious.

"Your hair is nice when it's washed," Lucius noted softly.

Not knowing what else to say, Severus said, a bit amused, "Thank you." He continued to fasten Lucius' pants, and then folded up the jacket and gloves to put on the end table in a neat pile.

When everything looked to be suitably unassuming, Severus sank down on the couch again with a deep sigh. Lucius leaned his head on Severus' shoulder tiredly; he was already starting to doze away. Many thoughts threatened to fly around in Severus' head, but he pushed them down. Now was not the time for thinking and analyzing and regretting. He had the entire rest of the winter break for that.

Instead, he found himself interested in more trivial things.

"Lucius," said Severus, just loudly enough he knew would catch the other man's attention.

"Mmm," said Lucius drowsily.

"What happened to twenty years of a faithful marriage?"

Lucius blinked several times. Then, a sleepy grin spread lazily on his face. "I never said anything about twenty-one."


	2. Cause and Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an incident with Draco, Lucius confronts Severus under the guise of a concerned parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Finally, the second chapter is up and out there, and I couldn't have done it without the help of amazing @Nightmare_Walker! Please enjoy!

The next week proved to be miserable. Following the events of the party, Severus had ample time for deep reflection. Now, he hadn’t sought to reflect—in fact, he would have preferred he hadn’t—but the more he tried not to think of what happened, the more he ended up doing it, anyway. He tried keeping himself busy to keep his mind off of it. He marked all the papers on the functions of Wiggentree Bark he’d assigned before the Christmas holidays. He planned all his lessons for weeks into the second semester. But no matter what he did, his thoughts always drifted towards  _ that night. _ What irked him the most was that, instead of all this pondering reaching a solid conclusion, Severus seemed to loop in an endless circle of frustration.

He was frustrated at Lucius, but more than that, he was frustrated at himself.

When classes started up again, they, too, proved to be just as miserable. This did not pass unnoticed by the students attending his lessons, though he ensured they did not know why.

“Is it just me, or is Professor Snape being especially grumpy today?” he overheard a Hufflepuff girl whisper to her fellow Hufflepuff beside her, both not caring at all about the matters of their cauldron-work.

“Well, today, and every day since the break ended,” came the muttered response. “Maybe he had a shoddy Christmas.”

While they weren’t wrong, those comments did little but annoy Severus further.

“Ten points from Hufflepuff,” said Severus, very much done. The girls winced, and he drew a calming breath. “I suggest,” he added, his voice cool, “you pay more attention to your work and less to the matters of others.”

The two girls shrieked—their attempts at Fire Protection Potions bubbled an ugly green over the rim of their cauldrons. Severus was pleased to hear that they did not gossip for the rest of the class (and even more pleased to imagine the nasty grade he’d give them).

It took an immense amount of self-restraint not to assign a two-foot-long essay on Girding Potion by the end of the period, but soon the bell rang. Severus had a short recess before the second-year Slytherin Potions class started, to his relief. Having that class as last of the day was both a blessing and a curse. Those students showed to be extreme in skill level. Either they performed terribly or brilliantly, but no middle ground existed. Most of them did well, but others…

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were virtually hopeless cases, as there seemed to be no helping them. Blaise Zabini was bright, as was Daphne Greengrass. Millicent Bullstrode struggled almost as much as Longbottom—an incredibly challenging feat. And Draco Malfoy—well, no one could deny that he had a natural affinity for the art of Potion-making, however much of a snot he was. However, he seemed to harbour a genuine interest for the subject, despite how aloof he acted in front of his peers.

There was no mistaking that he was his father’s son.

It wasn’t long before his room once again started filling. Draco was one of the first students in the room, almost dragging Crabbe and Goyle with him. With the instructions written on the blackboard, just as the class before them, the Slytherins worked away at their potions. Severus observed the students as they all hustled to the back cabinet for ingredients, then back to their cauldrons again, working at varying levels of vigour.

As predicted, Crabbe and Goyle’s potions were complete failures. (Crabbe’s exploded in his face, and Goyle’s turned a putrid yellow and filled the entire room with a wretched odour.) Pansy Parkinson completed her potion only by eyeing Zabini’s every move, and Draco surpassed the class with flying colours.

The bell rang, and one-by-one, the students handed in their samples and filed out in a great hurry for food. Despite Severus feeling peckish himself, he decided to get a head start on marking. From his desk, he pulled a roll of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink, then began examining each vial of potion for grading as the room became near desolate. However, he knew acutely that one student had remained seated, had brushed off his friends, had watched and waited until the room was empty under the guise of having spilt the contents of his bookbag.

The exact student that approached Severus’ desk now.

“Late,” said Severus, not averting his eyes from the vial he was tipping back and forth as Draco Malfoy handed in his own.

“Sorry, sir,” said Draco, a bit meekly, “but, I had a question, and you know...”

Taking silence as an invitation, Draco continued, “Sir, what does Fire Protection Potion actually... you know, feel like, when you use it?”

“Like ice,” said Severus, taking a glance at the rotten poisons Crabbe and Goyle had made, and giving them ‘T’s without consideration.

“Have you ever needed to make one for anything really serious? Like an emergency?” asked Draco.

“More than once,” said Severus, the riddle he had made to protect the Philosopher’s Stone coming to mind.

Draco grinned with a sense of pride. “Father has always said nothing but good about you, I’m not surprised,” he said, almost as if he were boasting.

“Is that so?” asked Severus, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh, yes,” said Draco brightly. “He said you were practically a genius when he knew you in school, and that you used to be friends.” He blinked. “Are you still friends?”

“Your parents invited me to their party,” Severus replied, partly because it would be stupid to disclose anything further, and partly because he wasn’t certain what their relationship entailed anymore.

“Father seemed really happy you came,” said Draco, nodding. (Severus thought ‘overly aroused and maritally inconsiderate’ was much more accurate, but oh well, close enough.) Draco continued, “I guess that’s what he means when he tells me to make good friends in Hogwarts—I mean, I can’t imagine inviting Crabbe and Goyle to my wedding or anything like that”—his nose wrinkled—“but I suppose that’s a start.”

“Indeed, it is,” said Severus, musing to himself that Lucius mustn’t have imagined inviting him to his wedding or ‘anything like that’, either—until this year, that is. Then again, they weren’t exactly ‘good friends’ during their stay at Hogwarts…

They fell into a thoughtful silence; the only sound in the room being the familiar scratching of quill against parchment. Severus glanced at the lot of potions left to mark as he wrote Hannah Abbott’s grade—he was halfway through all of them, so he’d stop for dinner soon.

“Sir,” said Draco after a few moments, voice shy, “erm, I was wondering… You know, I was thinking about this at the anniversary party, too.” He took a breath, then his words rushed out of him in a nervous jumble. “Well, how come you’re not married?”

Though he had answered many a question during his career as a teacher, never had Severus been so bluntly asked about his love life (or, more so, asked at all), and by a twelve-year-old no less.

He raised an eyebrow and stared at Draco incredulously, the boy turning an impressive shade of red.

“I mean, you’re really quite good at, well,  _ magic _ , and you know, you’re not bad-looking,” Draco mumbled, looking at his feet. Severus thought there would be plenty of people who’d say otherwise, but dismissed the subject.

“I have my reasons.”

“That’s not a very good answer,” said Draco, who looked very unimpressed.

“Perhaps not, but it is enough,” replied Severus. He could nearly hear the wheels in Draco’s head spinning.

“Have you never loved someone?”

Severus froze, not seeing the parchment he was writing on. “This is not up for discussion,” he said coolly, but Draco pressed on;

“Did she not love you back?”

“Draco, that’s enough.” 

But Draco let curiosity get the better of him, so enthralled he had apparently not heard Severus (or, more likely, ignored him on purpose). “What was she like?” Draco asked, and he began firing questions so quickly that Severus had neither time to answer nor to shut him down. “Was she pretty? Was she smart? I bet she was. You seem the sort that prefers brains to beauty. But I bet another bloke wooed her first, that’s usually how it works, isn’t it…” He trailed off, lost in thought.

“Are you finished?” Severus said quietly, his icy tone immediately reigning Draco in. Draco’s lively expression immediately fell sullen. “This conversation is over.”

Draco opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I-I’m sorry sir, I didn’t--“

“Get out,” hissed Severus, his voice rising. “Get out, now.”

Draco took a staggering step back, staring with wide, watery eyes. “Sir--“

“Leave!” Severus shouted, rising from his desk. Draco gazed up at him for a moment, then wheeled around, grabbing his bag before sprinting out the door blinking furiously.

Severus stood there, letting everything sink in. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper like that, but Draco’s questions hit a little too close to home.

He wondered for a split second whether Lucius had told Draco what Severus had disclosed to him when they were closer, but brushed it aside as quickly as the thought came. Draco was not a subtle liar—in fact, he wasn’t subtle at all (like father, like son, Severus supposed), and Draco was only being a curious and tactless child. Nevertheless, it still held that those questions were out-of-the-question for a professional relationship.

And that was where Severus shot himself in the foot.

From the get-go, Draco and Severus’ relationship had never been professional. An unspoken contract had been made the very day Draco was born; Severus would make sure Draco’s school career went smoothly, and, in turn, Lucius would sing Severus’ praises to whoever would listen. It was a pact woven from the deliquium, bittersweet memories of their childhood, and reinforced with the delicate trust they established within the ranks of the Death Eaters.

But now, Severus wasn’t sure how much longer that contract would hold. The unspoken thread of a promise was fraying—soon to be cut, with the events of the anniversary being the scissors. As much as he hated to think it, what happened that night in Wiltshire evoked memories and emotions he’d never wanted to stir up again, and it was taking its toll.

All that being said, he’d certainly have a not-unpleasant-or-threatening-at-all message from the Malfoys to look forward to the next day. Big surprise, it came with the Malfoy owl during breakfast, who swooped in and spat the letter at Severus with disdain, glaring at him with piercing yellow eyes. No sooner had Severus grabbed it than the owl took off with one very disgusted screech.

Several of the faculty cast strange or intrigued glances Severus’ way, but he ignored them, tearing open the seal and unfurling the paper inside. He was not stricken to see that there was no salutation or complimentary case, and not even a signature at the end.

_ We need to talk. Be in your office at noon. _

Lovely, thought Severus as he folded the parchment and shoved it into the pocket of his robes. Just lovely. The first time since the party seeing Lucius, and under these circumstances? An absolute nightmare.

Waiting for something ornately bad to happen was never a pleasant experience. However, it brought Severus some relief that he wouldn’t have to face Draco in the classroom before noon or after it. Even the second-year Gryffindor class wouldn’t have been horrendous, everything else aside. With their female friend who reminded Severus so very much of Remus Lupin in the hospital wing, Potter and Weasley were much more pleasant to handle. But, due to the circumstances, Severus still found time moved too slowly.

An eternity later, noon rolled around. Severus ate a very light lunch in the Great Hall before sweeping to his study as he awaited Lucius’ arrival. This did not take long—within minutes, familiar footsteps echoed in the empty halls.

“Severus,” came a drawling voice from the doorway.

“I understand you wanted to talk?”

“Yes, I did,” said Lucius Malfoy, wryly.

“Then come in,” said Severus, “and close the door behind you.”

The door swung shut, and Lucius drew himself up to full height, arms folded at his chest, and head tilted in aloof arrogance. This was no doubt his use of the classic Malfoy intimidation tactic, which Severus knew worked well on others. Himself, however, not so much.

“Professor,” said Lucius, “last night, I received a rather…  _ concerning _ ”—he put stress on that word—“letter from my son.”

Severus played coy. “Do you say so?”

“He told me,” continued Lucius, an edge to his tone, “a certain teacher berated him for asking a few harmless questions.”

Lucius’ cold eyes glinted in the partial darkness. He was looking for a reaction, but Severus would not give him one.

“If that’s the case,” said Severus evenly, “there is a definite distinction between what is harmless and what is appropriate. Furthermore,” he emphasised when Lucius made to retort, “I believe you of all people would agree that asking a professor about their love life would be inappropriate.”

“And I believe you of all people would agree that driving children to the point of tears would be inappropriate as well.” That reply was so smooth that you’d almost never realise there was a hitch. But Severus saw that subtle furrowing of the brow, and couldn’t help but feel triumphant in the fact that his assumptions were correct: Draco had not told Lucius the complete truth. Knowledge, after all, is power in a battle of wit.

Lucius had never come to talk when countless other students had been emotionally distraught; Severus knew this wasn’t the genuine reason he came. No—he came because Severus had breached their contract, and, according to Lucius, not for a justifiable cause. 

“I am a teacher, Lucius. I am here to teach people who wish to learn. I am not here to hold their hands. I am not here to wipe away their tears. I am not here to advise them on their personal lives, nor to tell them about mine. But perhaps,” he sneered quietly, “if you were to tell him all about your  _ good friendships _ during your stay at Hogwarts, Draco could follow in your noble footsteps.”

Lucius snarled, plunged his hand into the pocket of his robes, and drove Severus up against the wall with his wand pointed at Severus’ chin. His eyes blazed fire. 

Severus thought he struck absolute gold.

“You haven’t changed at all since then,” leered Severus in a whisper, smiling sardonically. “This is the only way you can feel power, isn’t it, Lucius? Blackmail. Threats. Sex.” He chuckled in soft mockery. “You’re addicted.”

“Fuck you,” growled Lucius.

“Oh, please, after those years in school I think you’ve done that plenty.”

Seconds ticked away, and neither of them moved. Lucius glowered at him, knuckles white, and Severus stared back with mild delectation. It was, to put it bluntly, a stare-down.

It was as if someone flipped a switch; Lucius’ gaze softened and the grip on his wand slacked.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “But I want more, Severus, I miss you.” The cool, biting touch of the wand slid down to point at Severus’ chest and slowly dragged farther and farther, buttons unfastening one-by-one as the wand passed them. 

Severus pulled himself out of his trance, fingers wrapping around Lucius’ wrist. Lucius stilled. 

“Get a hold of yourself,” Severus reproached, and Lucius’ expression darkened. “We both know that’s impossible.”

“You didn’t think it so a week ago.”

“A week ago, we made a mistake,” snapped Severus. “We were drunk and tired, and we weren’t in our right minds.”

“Then I ask you now,” crooned Lucius, his free hand reaching to cup Severus’ cheek, thumb grazing his lower lip in affection. 

Severus laughed clinically but did not stop him when Lucius wrenched his wrist away and the buttons of Severus’ robes continued to unfasten until his robes hung open.

“Do you try to seduce people every time you’re losing an argument, Lucius?” he asked, as Lucius ran a hand down his now-bare chest.

“No, just you. Consider it one last desperate plea from a distraught father,” said Lucius with a cryptic smile. His fingertips feathered against Severus’ stomach, and his eyes searched Severus’ in an honest implore. “What do you say?”

Then a light bulb went off.

This offer wasn’t just Lucius’ way of weaselling out of a losing battle—no—it was a way of cementing their bargain. Lucius, the slimy git he was, had orchestrated a single question that would test Severus’ allegiance. How far would he go to prove his fidelity? How much would he put on the line?

Where did his loyalties truly lie?

All it would take were two letters, and everything would be over. Lucius would leave, no longer would Severus be bound to him in a covenant, and any ties Severus had with the Malfoys could completely melt away like a nasty dream. A single word and Severus could put the past behind him and never look back again.

But at what cost? How much of himself lay buried within his past, and how much of himself would he lose if he gave it all up?

Perhaps, at its core, the cost would be the reward itself. 

“Yes.”

A single word and the Devil’s Snare of his past wrapped irreversibly around the present. The lines Severus had taken such care in drawing blurred to nought; memories of their youth tore out from chains and flashed angrily like lightning; for a split second, Severus was young and helpless, pinned to the wall of Slughorn’s unoccupied office while a teenaged Lucius stared at him with hungry eyes.

Though the fleeting moment it was, when Severus blinked the mirage away, it was the same pair of eyes that blinked back at him and the same silky voice that murmured the incantation for the Imperturbable Charm as it had done so many times before.

And then Lucius was leaning into him, his warm body pressing against Severus’ as their lips met. How Severus had missed this, drinking in the sweet kisses that were never enough, the sense of that velvety tongue stroking his, the satiny blond hair entangled in his fingers like fine threads of sunlight. Everything seemed so raw, so real, so honest. All those questions Severus had about that winter night were answered in Lucius’ heady touches, all the doubts about their past dissolved with every electrifying swipe of the tongue, and Severus couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so weightless.

Severus’ body awakened in newfound lust and longing he hadn’t met for ages, not since those carefree days of schooling, not since his enrolment in the Death Eaters, not since  _ her _ ... And yet, now it was as if no time had really passed between them.

_ Time _ . Severus wrenched himself out of his daze with that sudden thought and his eyes flicked to the clock hanging on the wall. “Lucius,” he said, and tugged gently on the soft strands of hair slipping through his fingers. Lucius tilted his head. “You have twenty minutes.”

“Duly noted,” replied Lucius with a grin, and that driven glint to his eyes.

Which was, evidently, true. Lucius worked efficiently to strip away clothing as they kissed, wasting no time in tearing off Severus’ robes and undershirt; and removing his own travelling cloak as well. Lucius’ black blouse was more of a hassle—there were so many buttons that Severus wanted to just rip them right off, but with a little patience and much fumbling, that, too, fell to the ground.

Severus shivered, his bare chest chilled from being exposed in the frigid air of the dungeons. He didn’t have to suffer for long, though, as his skin soon heated with soft lips trailing kisses from his mouth to his jaw and down his throat, and with prurient hands spreading on his chest and stomach. That heat slowly flowed throughout his body and pooled pleasantly in his groin; a fire that needed feeding and wouldn’t stop burning until Lucius sated it.

Lucius’ hands trailed lower, fingers hooking on the belt loop of Severus’ trousers and skimmed on strained fabric. As his pants were tugged down, Lucius brushed on him again, and Severus knew then that it was all naughtily deliberate.

“Don’t tease me,” Severus muttered. He struggled to keep his speech stable in a wild attempt to conceal the effect Lucius had on him, but the battle he fought so desperately to win was lost when long fingers wrapped around him.

He groaned and lost himself in Lucius’ touches, the hand that stroked and pumped and twisted in the most heavenly ways, the crisp bite of metal rings rubbing on him in all the right places…

Then it disappeared. Severus huffed in dissatisfaction at the loss of touch but hushed when he sensed Lucius’ husky voice and the warm breath that tickled his ear.

“Severus,” murmured Lucius, his tongue flicking Severus’ earlobe, not unlike a serpent, “turn around and face the wall. Hurry.”

When Severus had braced himself on the wall, hands splayed on the cold grey bricks, his prick hard and aching between his thighs, he heard those oh-so-familiar sounds: belt loosening, fly unzipping, and the unmistakable incantation for the lubrication charm whispered from sinful lips behind him.

He squirmed as the spell took effect. Even though he’d expected it, the sudden sensation of being coated with a thick, creamy, and cool wetness was not one that he was used to—not anymore. Gradually, the liquid warmed into a tingling heat that spread with steady progress like a wildfire. From his toes to the tips of his fingers, he experienced a buzz ten times better than any type you’d get from drugs or alcohol.

A firm hand on his hip stilled him, and then a finger trailing down to trace teasing circles and making a mess of the lubricant that had trickled out. Severus craved so badly to push against it. He wanted it to breach him and stretch him, but he resisted, choosing instead in chewing his lip to vent his frustration.

“Stoic as always, hmm?” Lucius’ finger eased into the slick heat, and he chuckled when Severus whimpered. The intrusion seemed only to fuel the heady pleasure that washed over him. 

“Honest work hurt no one,” responded Severus shakily. 

He felt Lucius’ long hair tickle his shoulders and soft lips press gentle kisses on his neck as Lucius’ finger stroked and stretched him.

“Oh,” he hissed, jerking involuntarily when Lucius hit something inside him, sending intense, hot waves of pleasure throughout his body; hissed again when Lucius pressed there once more. “You snake!”

Lucius snorted, added a second finger, relishing in the moan that forced its way past Severus’ lips. “You know I am, Severus,” Lucius said softly with a cruel curl of his fingers, “but if the one who nourishes the snake in their bosom does so knowingly, is the snake really to blame?”

Severus could only manage a choked groan as Lucius dragged out his fingers, letting them hit every electrifying nerve. An uncomfortable emptiness filled Severus, however, the feeling soon passed, replaced with a hardness prodding at Severus’ entrance. There was the telling tightening of the grasp on his hip, and Lucius slid into him, inch-by-inch, deeper and deeper until Severus was  _ full… _

For a fleeting moment, time seemed to freeze. Everything felt so real, it felt unreal all the same; Severus was floating. The only constants were the shallow, shaky breaths hitting Severus’ neck, matching his own.

With a sultry groan, Lucius slid almost all the way out, then slammed into Severus again. And again. And again. Lucius’ cock reached places Severus had forgotten existed with each increasingly brutal thrust.

If Severus could have held back his voice, it would have been a miracle.

His lips parted to accommodate the soft moan that stuttered out in the same rhythm being pounded into him. Welcoming the blanket of pleasure that washed over him, he let his head loll onto the wall of his office, which was as rough and cold as the man pleasuring him.

Severus snaked a hand down to touch his leaking prick and used the cadence Lucius set to rock himself steadily into his fingers.

“Fuck, your voice,” gasped Lucius, and Severus wanted so hopelessly to glimpse his beautiful, pointed face lost in abandon.

The words Severus had on his tongue were fucked out of him, tempered into the sounds Lucius loved so much. His legs trembled, his fingernails scraped against the stone wall, and he knew he was close. Every sensation—from the touch of Lucius length moving inside him to sound of their skin colliding—it all moulted to a blinding bliss that coiled and tingled in Severus’ stomach like a snake ready to attack, tighter and tighter until it sprung…

Lucius thrust into him with such force that Severus’ knees nearly buckled, and it was that swift, delirious motion that pushed him over the edge.

“Lucius!” The name slipped, almost as if by habit, through a cry, through the pulsating waves of climax as thick ribbons of semen coated his fingers and marred the wall.

Lucius groaned, loud and low in Severus’ ear. “Fuck, I haven’t heard that in such a long time.”

Severus continued to take in thrust after thrust, riding out his orgasm on Lucius’ cock. Soon Lucius quickened to a merciless pace, his nails dug into Severus’ hips so tightly they could draw blood, and his teeth found Severus’ shoulder. It was all too much—Severus fought to stay upright as his head spun and his legs threatened to give out—but everything felt so right.

The hips stuttering gave Severus a warning, though he could barely process it, and not long after, Lucius pressed in deep and released his seed with a hiss.

Then all was still. Lucius buried his face into the crook of Severus’ neck, panting hard. Severus trembled from head to toe, just now processing the burning on his thighs, hands, and forearms from where he had rubbed against the wall. More than ever, Severus was thankful for his extremely prudent clothes, which would surely give away nothing, even without concealing magic.

Severus weakly shouldered Lucius away and turned to check the clock. There was more than enough time to sort things out, thankfully, and Severus got to work while Lucius organised himself beside him. Letting the Scouring Charm work its magic, the wall was scrubbed clean, as were Severus’ fingers. A soundless incantation had him gritting his teeth in discomfort, but being pressed for time, it was the only logical thing to do.

Logical. Funny word. A word that Severus hadn’t given enough credit. He had always thought he was a logical man, someone more than capable of being reasonable, and yet, as he dressed, he reached the conclusion that his relationship with Lucius Malfoy was anything but. Rendezvousing with the boy he’d been with during his childhood was not one of the things that came to mind when Severus thought logical, not to mention Lucius’ marital status…

“Talk to me, Severus.” Lucius’ voice pulled Severus out of his own head and back to the figure leaning on his desk, the fingers absently combing blond hair, and the blue eyes peering at him through long lashes. “Well?”

“Well,” he said slowly, “we certainly have matters to discuss.” 

Severus knew he ought to be more upset, he should be screaming at Lucius because they unearthed an utter mess that needn’t be unearthed; that he should be regretting the choice he made, and all the choices he didn’t make; that he should be more than frustrated at himself and at Lucius and at the world.

But he wasn’t. 

Somehow, even though it all was beyond damning, Severus felt strangely at ease. He was certain he was destined for Hell regardless, and besides that, if he could exploit their symbiotic liaison to his benefit… well, Lucius Malfoy would certainly be a useful pawn (albeit arduous) to manipulate.

And, thought Severus furtively, a beautiful one.

“You can be assured that Narcissa will never find out,” said Lucius soberly. 

“And if she does?”

“That’s what we have magic for, Professor Snape.” There was something dark to Lucius’ expression, that hint of sadism and cruelty. Severus sent himself a mental reminder to keep his guard around him.

“I always thought Malfoys valued their family,” said Severus, raising his eyebrows.

“Truth is a double-edged sword, and I do not wish Narcissa cut.”

Severus snorted. “How merciful of you.”

“Don’t misunderstand me, Severus,” said Lucius. “I love my family. You know as much as I that I’m doing this for them. Besides,” he added with a meaningful grin, “there are just some things women can’t satisfy.”

“Playing the saviour really doesn’t suit you, I’m afraid,” replied Severus, rolling his eyes. “What of Draco?”

“Of course not,” scoffed Lucius. “As long as we keep our wits about us, it shouldn’t be terribly difficult to keep this our secret.”

Severus met Lucius’ gaze with a thoughtful pause. In his own twisted way, Lucius was risking a lot on this, yet his intentions weren’t entirely made of gold. 

“I’ll look out for him.”

Lucius straightened. “I knew I wasn’t wrong to trust you,” he said as he swiftly buttoned his travelling cloak. With one fluid movement, he drew himself close, brushed a hand on Severus’ shoulder, that signature, deliciously evil smirk ruling his visage. Their faces mere inches apart, Severus could smell the trace of blackcurrant mint on Lucius' breath, and even spotted a small birthmark above Lucius’ right temple that he’d never noticed before. Perhaps it could have been romantic, under any other circumstances. “Will I be seeing you next week?” 

A light and simple question that hid only heavy and complicated answers. 

“My office is always open at noon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you for reading! If you want, you can read more of my notes down here to listen (read?) to me discuss writing this. 
> 
> SO I HAD THIS ALL WRITTEN OUT AND I THOUGHT I SAVED IT AS A DRAFT BUT I DIDN'T but anyway--
> 
> This chapter took a while to write, and it was a bit painful at times, but I think it was worth it! Again, I struggled with mapping out the relationships between characters--especially with the added complexity of Draco being thrown into this mess. 
> 
> Draco served as a bridge between Lucius and Severus, in a way. It was his interaction with Severus earlier on that sparked Lucius' and Severus' meeting later, and again he's a factor in their deal of sorts. With Draco, I imagine him to have a lot of his innocence still. In this, I wanted to demonstrate that he is still a child (a bratty snot of a child, but a child nonetheless). This makes writing his scenes with Snape, who is extremely dry and has little clue how to deal with children, extremely fun to do.
> 
> Another thing I struggled with was writing the sex scene so it was different enough from the scene in the first chapter. There are only so many ways I know to describe orgasm. Actually, for inspiration, I plugged parts of the chapter into a generator, however the result was more hilarious and cursed than anything. I'll add it as a bonus soon.
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Text Synth Writes "Cause and Consequence"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For inspiration while writing the second chapter, I plugged what I had written into "Text Synth"--it basically takes what you write and generate more based off of that. Unfortunately, the result was... not helpful, as much as it was hilarious and slightly disturbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> I opted to just post a little before the part where the Text Synth took over, just to sort of ease it in. It really picked up on my habits of using run-on sentences; I think there's a whole paragraph that's one sentence at some point. Anyway, enjoy this strange monstrosity of a fiction!

A single word and the past intertwined with the present. The lines that Severus had taken such care in drawing blurred to nought; the memories of their youth tore out from chains and flashed angrily like lightning; for a split second, Severus was young and helpless, pinned to the wall of Slughorn's unoccupied office as a teenaged Lucius stared at him with hungry eyes.

It was gone as quickly as it'd come, yet when Severus blinked the mirage away, it was the same pair of icy eyes that blinked back at him and the same silky voice that murmured the incantation for the Imperturbable Charm.

And then Lucius was leaning into him, his warm body pressing against Severus' as their lips met. How Severus had missed this, drinking in the sweet kisses that were never enough, the feeling of the velvety tongue stroking his, the satiny blond hair entangled in his fingers like fine threads of sunlight. His body awakened with longing he hadn't felt for ages, not since those carefree days of schooling, not since his enrolment in the Death Eaters, not since her...

Lucius broke the kiss gently but did not pull away, his breath tickling Severus' skin in wonderful ways. "Tell me," he whispered. "Tell me how much you want me, Severus."

Though it wasn't obvious, Severus knew Lucius well enough that he could hear the carefully masked eagerness in his voice, the keening flame in his eyes... Lucius hadn't changed after all these years--even in the bedroom, he still craved the high of being in control, of being sought after, of having people wrapped around his fingers.

The man didn't care for Severus, not one bit. His eyes were never bright, only the dark shadows behind them, but Severus could feel a desire to be looked after, to be in control, to be protected.

Severus could feel himself being drawn into it, into the warmth of Lucius' body, and as he did, Lucius's lips moved down to his ear, and his eyes were the same, full of affection and longing as they had been on his lips as a child, and his voice was still soft, still raspy from a long night spent in the bath.

But the kiss was the only thing that drew them towards the end.

"Tell me how much you love me," Lucius whispered, his voice full of passion as it moved from Severus' ear to his face. "Tell me what you want, Severus, tell me what you really want!"

Severus was pulled away by the sensation of Lucius's body pressing against him, his hand sliding up against Severus' back as he leaned into him, his breath hot and heavy on his lips as he whispered in his ear:

"I want to take you, Severus! I want to take you and be you all night long!"

Severus' hand found its way back to his hair, his mouth opened in surprise and surprise and pleasure, as it slid down over Lucius' chin and he tasted the tang of his shampoo before he heard himself ask Lucius:

"Please? What is it you want, Lucius?"

Lucius' hands came up to cup his cheeks, tracing over his forehead, feeling the lines of his skin, the softness and hardness of his hair.

"Please...!" Lucius repeated. "Please...! I want to be yours, Severus!"

He was kissing Severus again, this time harder and longer; Severus was surprised to notice the softness with which he had moved his mouth as if to kiss his lips or the heat which seemed to build up in his hands. "Please," he murmured, unable to keep the words out of his mind. "Please please..."

He could feel Lucius pulling his hand up, and Lucius' lips pressed down on his ear and then up to his mouth again, kissing softly, his eyes fixed on Severus. But when Lucius kissed him again, this time so hard it seemed he might have been crying, the heat seemed to become even stronger.

"Please," he whispered again, as he kissed Severus. "Please Severus."

It was the only thing that seemed to make the heat go away.

"What?" said Lucius, as he kissed his own cheek. "That... that's all you've wanted all night?"

"It's everything!" Severus said, trying to pull away.

"Well... I'm glad." Lucius was smiling as he said this, and Severus was aware of his hand moving up Lucius' back again. "That's good, I'm glad."

"Severus," Lucius said, as his lips pressed against his again. "I haven't been this wet since I was a little girl. Can you do me like that again?"

Severus couldn't say anything. It was so wrong, it was too good, it hurt like hell, but it seemed to make things better. He could just lie, and tell himself it was a bad dream, it was a good dream, that he could tell himself to stop, that Lucius was only teasing him.

Lucius reached down, but he was only grabbing Severus' hand. "Come," he said, moving it lower. "Come, let me take you."

"Please..."

He opened his eyes wider, and Lucius' cock pressed up against his own, a warm little ball of flesh.

He tried to move, his own hands on Lucius', the hand on Lucius' back, and he could feel the warmth of Lucius' breath against his mouth.

A hand slid across his hip, gripping his cock, stroking it. He pushed up against Lucius, who was leaning back against the wall.

The heat was getting too much. He couldn't move, couldn't even sit up. His hands were trapped at his sides, aching to grab Lucius' arms, and his mouth was dry.

Severus was so close, he could almost breathe through his nose. If he could just get them closer together.

"Please," he cried, trying to move, feeling the heat growing, and not knowing what to do. His hands were trapped at his sides, his knees pulled up.

Severus pulled Lucius closer, and the heat was so intense, so hot against him, pressing against him, it felt like he was going to explode from the inside.

His whole body was shaking and shaking, as if he was going to die from it, and Lucius was stroking his cock. He couldn't move. He wanted to get closer, to be inside of Lucius, and he had to hold on, to stop the flood of pleasure.

Severus was close, but he didn't want this to end. He wanted Lucius to be inside him, to do that to him.

It was as if he were being pushed against something in all the wrong places at the wrong time.

"Please, Lucius, please," he pleaded, his arms still trapped at his sides, and he could still feel his own orgasm starting.

"Don't, I've had enough, it's too bad, but I think I'll go."

"I can still hold on for a little longer, Lucius. I need you."

Lucius' hands were still on his thigh, and he leaned forward so he was straddling his back and he could reach his hand into Severus' trousers, rubbing over the bulge at the front. He could feel the heat against Lucius' cheek and the warmth against his cock.

He couldn't move.

Lucius' hand reached to the back of his head, to his chin, and he pushed his lips into Severus's. A shiver ran through his body, his legs were going to give out, it was as if every muscle he knew about had been suddenly broken and he couldn't move.

"Lucius, do it," he begged, feeling the heat at the back of his head, the pulse starting to build up, and he would give anything just to feel that, just to feel it, it was so good but he knew it wouldn't last, he knew he was going to collapse into the floor, but he could feel the heat and he could hear the wetness and he had a hard cock and he wanted to feel it, he wanted to feel Lucius inside him, and he wanted to feel every part of him fill with Lucius, and if he just could get closer, to be with Lucius, he wouldn't have to feel so helpless, and he'd have something to focus on, he'd have something that didn't belong to them, something to hold onto, something to be happy about.

He was going to explode.

Lucius was stroking him and his cock was almost hard again, and Lucius couldn't move and his fingers were rubbing against his balls.

"I'll hold you, Lucius," he whispered.

Severe, it was. He had been holding Severus' shoulders for over a year now now, since the day when they decided to get together for the first time, and they both knew it was because they were trying to show that they belonged there, for their time in the future.

"I can't hold you, I'm too close," Severus whimpered.

He didn't want this. He wanted it all to stop, and he couldn't feel the pleasure at the back of his head as he was held by the warm lips of Lucius. No, he hadn't wanted it at all.

When Lucius had held him for the first time since that day in the Great Hall, he hadn't wanted this, he'd wanted to move away, he'd wanted to get away.

He couldn't move, and he knew this was coming, that he had to stay and that it was going to hurt and that it was going to be better than any pain he could think of, but it was the only part of him he could hold onto, and he knew he was going to collapse, if he didn't, then he was going to hurt, there was no other way and he had to take every pain that came his way as he held Lucius. Lucius was so strong, so gentle and kind, but he wasn't strong, he'd never been strong, and it couldn't be any other way, there was only one way he could be, and it was by holding onto his lover.

Lucious was rubbing against the balls of his shoulder and the back of his neck, and it had nothing to do with how tight he was, or how hard he was, not really, just to be there, the pleasure at the back of his head was making him close, and he was almost there.

It had to hurt, he wanted to let it go, not for himself, but for Lucius, because it was the only thing that was ever going to help him, because it was only right that he be there and that his pain be there with him at the same time, he didn't want it to be a one-way thing, not in the least.

"Are you ready?" he whispered in his ear, and it was such a strange thing now, he'd never had to tell Lucius to take control of him before, not since they were young, and it made him close again, but he couldn't just leave him there. He couldn't.

"No," Lucius whispered back, his voice so soft that Severus thought he'd just heard a child. He was holding Severus' shoulders so tightly that he could feel the pressure of Lucius' hands against the back of his head, and it made him want to cry out, cry out in the pain he felt, because it had felt nothing to what it was to be in that bed, he knew it would be even worse, and Severus couldn't handle that pain, if he had to cry, then he was going to cry.

"Please, no, no, no," Severus cried into the pillow. "I'm so sorry I haven't done more, I've been so selfish, please don't, I need to do more, just, just please, I want that to hurt so much."

His tears were falling down his face, but there was so much strength in them, as warm as the sheets beneath him, and they were so good, his tears were pouring down him, but they were the best he'd ever had, and he wanted to be in them because he couldn't do this if he wanted the pain to ever stop, and he wanted to give Lucius everything he knew he'd need, so that he'd never have to hurt again and there was nothing he could do, he'd have to give, give and give, and he was tired of being selfish, he'd give more than ever and Lucius would give as well, because there wasn't a thing in all the world that mattered except to them both, the two of them, and he'd have to take care of them both, he had to be good for them both, so that if one of them needed anything, then one of them would need that thing more than anything, and he would want it enough that he could give it to them both, he would want it enough to have to do it.

"I'm ready," he whispered into the pillow, the sound was still quiet, because there was just so good to it, but it sounded so good, so perfect for the two of them, so perfect, and for the one, who would always be there, because they'd done so much, and he didn't want to forget any part of it and he didn't want to take any one of them for granted, he wanted this, he wanted them to never be alone again, so that they could share and they could be in each other's arms forever, and he had to give it, he had to give to both of them, he had to give so much that he would never be alone again, so he would give it.

"I...I need you," he told Lucius, and the sound of his voice was so much more gentle than the way Lucius was speaking it, so gentle and so sad and so much more perfect than anything he could say out loud. "I need you," he said.

"I have to go now," Lucius whispered and Severus just stared at him. "I have to go now," he told him.

"You will see me tomorrow, then?" he whispered back.

"You will see me tomorrow," Lucius told him and Severus just stood there, staring at him for so long, and he couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe that they'd be together for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read through the whole thing, I commend you, because man. Even I could barely get through all of it. Thanks for reading! When I was editing this to post on AO3, I had to pause and be just like, "Wow." Lucius turns into a spice girl for a tiny bit XD. Wonderful what technology can do, huh? 
> 
> Honestly though, they are both moods--horny and confused, 100% of the time. I also appreciate Lucius just saying "Fuck this shit, I'm out" in the middle of copulation. What really took the cake for me, though, was, "  
> Severus was so close, he could almost breathe through his nose." I don't know why, but that's just hilarious to me. 
> 
> Something to note: the AI wrote Severus a lot more masochistic than I ever intended. Interesting.
> 
> What were your favourite crack moments? I'd be fascinated to know!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, there! Thanks for reading 'till the end. 
> 
> As I've said previously, this is the first sexually explicit writing I've really committed to finishing--and posting on the internet. I learned through the process of writing this that sex scenes are very difficult to compose, and I had to revise and revise again what I had put down. The most interesting part of the process, though, was my journey exploring the relationship between Severus and Lucius (on the flip side, this was what also caused me the most grief). It's not a black-and-white, clear cut pairing, which I think is what drew me to that in the first place. 
> 
> I really do hope that I succeeded in writing these characters to be decently true to their canon form. I definitely struggled with that as well, and being that both Severus and Lucius are such complex characters to begin with, it added a lot of planning and thinking on my part. A more trivial concern being, "Do I refer to Severus as 'Severus', or as 'Snape'?" I pondered that for quite a while.
> 
> As a side note, if you're wondering, in my mind I wrote this to take place during the time of around The Chamber of Secrets. 
> 
> There is so much territory to explore with this relationship that I am thinking of writing another part or so, which is why I put it in part of a series (although I'm still struggling to figure out the ins and outs of this system). What do you think? Again, criticism, advice, all of it is very much appreciated. Thank you!


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